


Trip Mops, Malcolm Dreams, and Archer is Laughing At Them Both

by Illusinia



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 21:52:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12920994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illusinia/pseuds/Illusinia
Summary: Trip really was trying to forget about his sexual encounter with T'Pol, he really was. Why he thought drinking with Malcolm would help him do that, he wasn't sure. It really wasn't the best idea.“My favorite was still in Shuttle Pod One,” continued Malcolm with a distant look and unabashed grin. “She climbed on my biobed after we were safely returned to Enterprise and told me all about how she couldn’t ignore my heroics.”“Heroics? You spent the whole time whining we were goin’ to die."





	Trip Mops, Malcolm Dreams, and Archer is Laughing At Them Both

**Author's Note:**

> I don't honestly know what the point of this story is, but it was bugging me by running around constantly in my head, so I figured I'd write and post it. So here's a possibly amusing story about Reed and Trip acting like children and Archer just trying to keep the peace. While laughing at poor Trip's pain.

The bourbon burned as it slid down Trip's throat, grinding against the frustration that seemed to infuse his mind. It had been a few days since his and T’Pol’s ‘experiment’ with human sexuality and the memory of it still haunted his mind every chance it got. Hence the alcohol he was currently consuming. And the presence of one Malcolm Reed.

“So,” slurred the Armory officer as he threw back another shot of whiskey. “Remind me again what we are celebrating? Or commiserating. Which was it again?”

“Neither, jus’ drinkin’,” corrected Trip as he downed his own shot. “Figured we earned it after the recent shit that went down.”

“Deep space really can be unpleasant,” agreed Malcolm as he poured himself and Trip another shot. “At least the women aren't bad to look at though. Especially the ones on the bridge.”

Malcolm grinned at Trip in a way that made him question why he'd thought drinking with the Brit was a good idea. “Not this Mal.”

“Oh come on,” nudged Malcolm with a grin and a light knock of his shoulder into Trip’s. “You have to admit that they’re nice to look at. Especially T’Pol in those cat suits of hers.” Malcolm made a contented sound in his throat.

Trip downed his glass once more in an attempt to keep from saying something he’d regret. Or doing something he would regret. Malcolm didn’t know what had gone down between him and T’Pol. He’d been hoping continued neuropressure sessions might lead to a repeat of their night together, or at least stabilize their relationship. It had, he thought. It was kind of hard to say with her though.

“Wish Hoshi wore one of those, but then I’d never get any work done,” continued Malcolm, smirking a little. “T’Pol’s distracting enough. Her bum in that thing is hypnotic. I swear, I stare every time she walks by.”

“Don’t know what you’re staring at,” grumbled Trip as he tried to push the memory of what said bum had felt like in his hands as he dragged their hips together. Firm and round, it had felt perfect.

Malcolm let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head in amusement. “I’m going to guess you’re more of a breast man? Even so, I’m surprised you can ignore her bum. Or her breasts. She has a rather nice pair.”

Definitely nice, even if he didn’t want to think about the fact they’d been the perfect size and weight to fit in his hands. If he didn’t want to think about the fact that she’d mewled as he’d touched her there. Fuck, he was trying to forget about her, not dwell on what sex with her had been like. 

He was about to open his mouth to tell Malcolm to knock it off, when the armory officer added: “I’m a bit surprised you haven’t been more distracted. I’ve had more than a few wet dreams about her.”

Ice ran down his spine, making his head spin. He didn’t want to hear about Reed’s dreams of T’Pol. He didn’t want the Brit even thinking about sex with T’Pol. Yes, she’d basically told him their sex was an experiment, but he wasn’t completely convinced of that. The look in her eyes when she’d stripped, the way she’d kissed him, all of it indicated something more. And there was not a snowballs chance in hell that he was going to think about Reed wanting to have sex with her.

“My favorite was still in Shuttle Pod One,” continued Malcolm with a distant look and unabashed grin. “She climbed on my biobed after we were safely returned to Enterprise and told me all about how she couldn’t ignore my heroics.”

“Heroics? You spent the whole time whining we were goin’ to die,” remarked Trip with a scowl, grabbing the bottle and taking a swig straight from the mouth. “She wouldn’t so much as look at you.”

Malcolm sniffed, glaring at him over his glass. “And she would look at you?”

“Damn right,” growled Trip as he pointed the bottle neck at Malcolm. “T’Pol an’ I are friends. She actually likes me.”

 

“She likes me as well,” argued Malcolm, though it was more petulant than should have been acceptable of a Starfleet officer. The look quickly gave way to a contemplative one, his head tilting slightly as if in consideration. “Think she’d sleep with me if I asked?”

Oh fuck no. Malcolm hadn’t just said that. Trip’s fingers tightened around his glass as he tried to formulate an answer. The other officer was apparently oblivious though, because he just kept right on going.

“Bet she’s a real wild-cat in bed.” A borderline lecherous grin curled over Malcolm’s lips. “All that tight control has to shatter somewhere. Probably a bite-”

 

Trip’s patience shattered at that point. Before he could register what he was doing, he’d thrown a punch at Malcolm’s head, sending the officer sprawling across the ground. He swayed as he scrambled to his feet and glared down at the armory officer as the other man groaned on the ground.

“Bloody hell! What was that for?!” exclaimed Malcolm, glaring up at Trip as he scrambled unsteadily to his feet.

“T’Pol ain’t someone ya should be speculatin’ about!” shouted Trip, the need to protect her rising sharply. It didn’t matter that T’Pol was a biter and he had the marks to prove it. He wasn’t about to tell Malcolm that she was more instinctive and wild in bed or that she had made sleeping on his back kind of difficult with the marks she’d left. Those were details only he should damn well know. “Now get out!”

“What’s got you so defensive?” asked Malcolm as he stumbled towards Trip, puffing out his chest in a confrontational manner. His eyes darted over Trip momentarily before his eyes alighted suddenly and he let out a laugh. “You want to sleep with her! Oh, now that is bloody rich. Tell me, Trip, have you had your own dreams about her? Possibly in engineering? You do love your engines.”

“I said get out, Mal!” shouted Trip, squaring his own shoulders as he glared down at the other man. “Now! ‘For I throw you out!”

“I’d like to see you bloody well try!” shouted back Malcolm before he actually shoved Trip. “You have your own fantasies about her, why can’t I have mine? She isn’t yours to command, Tucker. No matter what your rank might suggest.”

“I will lay you out flat if you don’t get the hell out,” warned Trip with a growl. “And I don’t have ta fantasize, I know what she’s like in bed! Now get the hell out! And stop fantasizin’ about her!”

“You know what she’s- you slept with her!” Malcolm’s voice bordered on accusatory as he shoved a finger into Trip’s chest. “You bloody well slept with her!”

 

Trip felt his stomach fall out as he thought about what had happened following that incident, wincing as he realized he’d just violated his own rule about keeping the matter between himself and T’Pol. There wasn’t any denying it at this point, though. “Yeah, I did. So what?”

 

Malcolm’s grin made him nervous. “Knew it. Was she as wild as she seems like she’d be?”

“Get out Malcolm!” shouted Trip, his temper rising as he grabbed the other officer’s shirt and half dragged the man to the door of his quarters. “I ain’t discussin’ this with you!”

 

Jabbing the button beside his door, Trip was ready to toss Malcolm into the hall and likely would have, if someone hadn’t been standing there. Jon glanced between him and Malcolm for a moment, his eyes saying that his presence wasn't by chance. Trip swore. The rooms were insulated, but it wasn’t sound-proof. Someone must have heard them shouting. Or maybe they heard Malcolm hit the deck. Either way, someone must have contacted the Captain. 

“Am I interrupting something?” asked Archer, glancing once more between the two men before motioning to indicate he wanted to enter the room. “I was hoping to join you both for a drink.”

“Sorry, Cap’n, but Malcolm was just leavin’,” apologized Trip as he released the other officer and shot him a glare.

“I’m sure he can stay for a few more minutes,” dismissed Archer as he stepped forward to enter the room, forcing him and Malcolm back into it. The rooms weren’t exactly big.

Trip had to bite his cheek to keep from arguing. He didn’t exactly want to be around Malcolm at that moment. The man had rubbed him the wrong way and he wasn’t feeling forgiving right then. Damn T’Pol. Her and her freaking Vulcan need to repress everything, even something as fantastic as what happened between them. He'd been on cloud nine until her freaking ‘experiment with human sexuality' speech. What they'd had was incredible though and he wasn't gonna let Malcolm have a go at T’Pol until he had the chance to show her it wasn't just “an experiment”.

Jon settled himself at the desk, motioning for the two men to sit on the sole bunk in the room. Once more, he filled both glasses and distributed them before grabbing a third one from the drawer where Trip kept them and pouring himself a glass as well. “So, someone care to tell me why I got multiple complaints about shouting coming from the chief engineer’s quarters?”

“We were jus’ havin’ a little disagreement, cap’n,” replied Trip, shooting at warning look at Malcolm to keep his mouth shut. The last thing he needed from Jon was a warning about fraternization or picking fights with the crew. He’d heard about the dressing down Malcolm and Hayes had gotten following their scuffle and, well neither he nor Malcolm were seriously injured, he was pretty sure Jon would still throw the book at him.

“A little disagreement that had you shouting at Malcolm to get out?” questioned Jon blandly. “An argument about a woman, maybe?”

Trip felt himself flush. Fuck, how did Jon know?

“When someone shouts ‘stop fantasizing about her’ at someone else, it generally implies a girlfriend is involved,” continued Jon as if he were reading a book aloud. ”Which is funny, Trip, because last time I checked, you didn’t have a girlfriend.”

“Apparently, he and our resident Vulcan have been getting chummy,” spoke up Malcolm, smirking at him over the edge of his glass. “And he’s a bit jealous that someone else might find her attractive.”

“Our resident-” started Archer before he groaned and dropped his head forward. “Really, Trip? T’Pol? Of all the women on the Enterprise, you had to get involved with the one woman you shouldn’t.”

“Hey, it ain’t like that Jon!” objected Trip frantically as he thought over their last encounter. “She kissed me. I wasn’t gonna do anything ‘cause, ya know, she’s a Vulcan an’ I figured she probably wouldn’t be interested. But then she kissed me the other night an’ things just happened.”

“And it never occurred to you that you should maybe decline her offer?” asked Jon, shooting him a raised eyebrow. “Or at least consider declining her offer?”

 

He bit his lip as Malcolm snickered behind him. If he ‘accidentally’ knocked the man’s glass and spilled some of his bourbon on the armory officer, well, it wouldn’t be undeserved. “Cap’n, when a woman kisses you, then drops her robe and stands completely naked in front of you, it’s kinda hard to say no.”

Both Malcolm and Jon stared at him like he was making this shit up. Both of them had their glasses half raised as if they planned to take a drink, but neither was making a move to complete the action. The slack jawed looks of surprise would have been hilarious if they hadn’t been aimed at Trip.

Finally, Jon seemed to regain his senses. He slowly lowered his glass, pursing his lips slightly as he set it aside and locked his eyes on Trip. “So, your story is that she made advances towards you.”

“Yes, Cap’n,” admitted Trip with a sigh, downing the rest of his glass and setting it aside. “She was actin’ jealous and I called her out on it. She told me about Sim confessin’ his- our attraction to her, in her quarters, an’ I kinda went a little green-eyed myself. She called me out usin’ my own words an’ jus’...well, things happened.”

“Sim admitted an attraction to her?” asked Malcolm in surprise. “That was nearly six months ago.”

Trip just nodded, his lips compressing to keep from saying something stupid and hoping the others wouldn't think too hard about that.

“Trip, how long have you been attracted to T’Pol if Sim, a clone, knew about it?” asked Jon, his voice amused as he stared hard at Trip.

He couldn't bring himself to look at either Jon or Malcolm as he answered. “Uh, some time around when I met her.”

Malcolm started cracking up immediately, nearly falling off the bunk. Even Jon looked amused as he sipped at his drink. Trip felt like he might die of embarrassment.

“Maybe at least this will temper your arguments,” stated Jon at last, his eyes laughing as they met Trip's.

“Maybe,” muttered Trip, trying to keep his voice even. “But can we, uh, keep this between us three?” At their curious looks, he quickly added: “Vulcan privacy. It ain't somethin’ they really discuss.”

“Seems an odd thing to keep private,” remarked Malcolm, though he shrugged and downed his drink.

Jon gave him a suspicious look though and Trip knew his boss didn't buy any of that privacy shit. “We’re going to have to discuss this, you, me, and T’Pol. I want to make sure this won't impact our mission.”

“Yes, sir,” stated Trip, his stomach sinking at the thought of Jon bringing this up with T’Pol. She was going to murder him if Jon dragged them into his office to discuss a relationship that, at this point, didn’t exist.

Nodding, Jon stood up and motioned for Trip to follow him. “So let’s go get this over with. Malcolm, go get some rest. It looks like you’re going to have a nice fresh bruise to compliment your fading ones.” Malcolm looked like he wanted to object, probably hoping that he would get to watch the show, but ultimately snapped his jaw shut and nodded as he stood. “And no discussing this with anyone. We’re going to respect T’Pol’s need for privacy with this. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” confirmed Malcolm with a sigh, pushing himself up onto shaky legs and downing the remainder of his glass before heading for the door. Jon followed, motioning for Trip to do the same. Trip gulped as he followed them out, heading to the right behind Jon while Malcolm went left. They headed down the hallway in silence but, instead of heading for the ready room like Trip expected, Jon led him to his quarters.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Jon motioned for him to take the chair and settled onto the bed. Porthos sleepily lifted his head but otherwise didn't react as he rolled over and went bank to sleep.

“So what really happened with T’Pol?” asked Jon workout preamble. “Something tells me that she isn't the type to do human style dating.”

Wincing, he cleared his throat and nodded. “She's not.”

“So?” prompted Jon, giving Trip an expectant look.

He licked his lips nervously, then sighed and related the whole story to Jon. His neuropressure sessions with Amanda. Her expression of jealousy and him calling her out on it. Her turning the entire situation around on him by bringing up Sim and his own jealousy at the idea the clone had been in her room. His admission that he was jealous and by extension found her attractive. Their kiss and her subsequent dropping of her robe. The fact they had sex three times and would have probably kept having sex if Malcolm and Hayes hadn’t destroyed the engines. Then their subsequent discussion; how she explained their night was just an experiment with human sexuality and how they’d agreed not to mention it, though Trip wanted to keep doing neuropressure with her.

When he was done, he finally risked looking up at John. His commander was sitting there silently, one hand on his dog and the other resting in his lap. Jon’s face was completely blank, his eyes locked on Trip. Then, the man laugh. Jon actually started to laugh.

“How the hell do you manage to get into this much trouble Trip?” asked Jon through his apparent mirth.

Trip felt his face redden. “Hey, I didn't start it!”

“But you didn't resist either,” pointed out Jon as he stood up from the bed and grabbed a glass from his shelf. He filled it with water and offered it to Trip. “You're going to feel like hell in the morning.”

“No different from the last few mornin’s,” muttered Trip before he downed the glass. Truthfully, he hadn't been drinking that much. It was more the fact that his mind had a tendency to dream about T’Pol. Waking up after one of those nights wasn’t exactly his idea of fun.

Jon gave him a curious look, which Trip waved away with a shake of his head that said ‘don’t worry about it’. The way Jon was staring at him though, he knew his friend had already figured out his secret. “You love her.”

“I wouldn’t call it love,” objected Trip, even as he realized it was bullshit to lie about. He didn’t really want Jon knowing about his feelings for T’Pol though.

“I would,” stated Jon with a shake of his head. “I’ve never seen you this torn up about a woman. You really love her.”

 

Groaning, Trip dropped his head into his hand a let out a huff. “Fine, maybe I do. You weren’t there though, Jon. The two a’ us were perfect together an’ she threw it out like trash. If you’d been with her an’ seen what I did, you’d be mad, too.”

He felt a hand rest on his shoulder and glanced up at his friend and Captain. John offered him a sympathetic expression and squeezed his shoulder once before releasing Trip and leaning back a little. “I know, Trip. It’s hard to be rejected like that. You’ll make it, though. There’s lots of other women out there.”

“T’Pol ain’t any woman,” muttered Trip as he leaned all the way back in his chair. “‘Sides, I don’t need to hear Malcolm's depraved fantasies about her to know he fancies her and she ignores him mostly.”

“She’s not going to pursue someone else, Trip,” dismissed Jon, shaking his head a little. “To be honest, I’m pretty sure you’re the only human on this ship she can actually stand.”

That didn’t exactly make him feel better, though he suspected it should. The fact was, he wanted T’Pol again. She’d been beautiful and he would give almost anything to have her back, naked, in his bed.

“Hey, cheer up Trip,” encouraged Jon with a smirk. “At least it wasn’t Malcolm she chose to explore her sexuality with.”

“That ain’t funny,” muttered Trip, letting his head fall back with a thump against the wall. God, the Brit would really be insufferable then.

Jon smirked at him and stood, stretching out his arms. “You promise this won’t affect you and T’Pol’s work relationship?”

“It ain’t gonna,” assured Trip, though he couldn’t really speak for T’Pol there. It couldn’t be logical to avoid someone professionally just because you’d slept with them though. Right?

“Good,” stated Jon as he headed for the door and motioned for Trip head out. “Now go get some sleep. In your own bunk.”

“Yes sir,” muttered Trip as he pushed himself upright a little unsteadily and stumbled towards the Captain’s door. He keyed it open and waved as he stepped out, heading down the hall back towards his quarters. Halfway there though, he paused before a specific door. Without much thought, he reached out to touch the door’s surface. He could practically feel its inhabitant, likely meditating if he had to guess. Part of him, a very strong part, wanted to open that door and just pin her to the wall. Another part of him just wanted to go in and cuddle her.

Forcing himself away from her door, he resolved to go sleep on the issue. His confrontation with Malcolm showed just how much this was eating at him and he needed to put it behind him. Or try discussing it with T’Pol again, though he didn’t think that would work out particularly well. Maybe he needed to though to put this behind him…

“Commander Tucker?” T’Pol’s voice from in front of him caught his attention and he barely had time to avoid running into her. There was a cup of tea in one hand and a PADD in the other. “Why are you still awake?”

“I was jus’ havin’ a meetin’ with the captain,” replied Trip, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for her. “What ‘bout you?”

“I simply wanted some tea,” replied T’Pol, eying him curiously. “You are struggling to sleep.”

“A little,” agreed Trip, making a face.

Nodding, T’Pol opened the door to her room and motioned for him to enter. “Then we should engage in a neuropressure session.”

Trip wanted to refuse, to dodge her offer through any means he could. But meeting her eyes, he knew he couldn’t resist. He knew he’d sleep incredibly well after the session and damn it if he didn’t want to. So, he followed her in and let the door close behind him. This probably wouldn’t help him get over her, but at least he would be able to sleep tonight. And maybe tomorrow he’d find another solution.


End file.
